


Welcome to my Life

by KnowledgeOfNonsense



Category: Criminal Minds, Percy Jackson and the Olympians & Related Fandoms - All Media Types, Supernatural, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Bath salts, Bullets, Burns, Crutches, F/M, Feet suck, Fight or Flight, Fluff, Guns, Hugs, Medications, More tags throughout chapters, Murderer, Pain, Pouting, Scars, Science Bitch - Freeform, Skateboards, Soliciting for sex, Steve is adorable, Sweet, strong
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-10-25
Updated: 2016-01-29
Packaged: 2018-04-28 03:15:36
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 8,994
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5075686
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KnowledgeOfNonsense/pseuds/KnowledgeOfNonsense
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The title probably gives you a pretty good idea as to what this series is about. I'm going to be working on this while I have writers block for my other series, or extra time.</p><p>Basically, I'm going to be basing these one-shot chapters on events in my life, they'll range from crazy, funny, outrageous, scary, sad or downright depressing. I figured it would be easier to incorporate things that have happened to me personally into a story, since it's partially all happened. Writing true events is a lot easier than coming up with new things, so while I've got writers block I figured "Hey what the hell, let's show everyone how fucked up my life is."</p><p>There's probably not going to be any smut, seeing as nothing sexual has ever happened to me, but if there is I'll put a chapter warning :)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Staying Strong

Pain.

Twelve god damn years of pain. 

You couldn't remember the last time you were truly carefree, truly free of the medications the therapy the constant questioning of "How's the foot" or "how are you feeling."

True, it was wonderful to know that the people around you cared, that they understood the pain you were experiencing was something nobody should have to go through, let alone starting when you were barely ten years old, but you couldn't help feeling guilty that you were causing so much trouble, being such a bother for your friends and family.

It started when you were 9. Scarlet Fever is what you had, you and your six year old sister. Hospitalized for two weeks, almost dying, lovely stuff. A complication your sister had developed was Bacterial Pneumonia, and you ended up with PSA, Post-Streptococcal Arthritis. Basically, your sister's lungs filled up with fluid and had to be drained with surgery, drained too fast and her lung collapsed.

Your left foot however, swelled up to the size of a football and looked like Flesh eating disease. They loaded you up on so many painkillers to help with the excruciating pain, that they almost caused you to OD. Technically, you were dead for a full 2 minutes. You came back though, thank god, because you didn't want to die...at that point in time.

After recovering from that, you ended up with a planter's wart the size of a bottle cap on the top of your left foot. It would constantly get scratched open and bleed from your shoes, and eventually you were so frustrated that your mom and dad took you to a dermatologist, as all the treatments to freeze it weren't working.

Cutting it off was the last resort. You were terrified of needles, and petrified at the thought of being cut, but you had to do it, you were sick of this stupid wart preventing you from wearing shoes that actually covered your foot.

Unfortunately, the doctor was a complete and utter dick. He was so fascinated with the size and placement of the wart, so interested in it as it was the largest he'd ever seen on anyone, that he began to try and get it off in one piece to save it. 

He literally scraped it off and put it in a jar.

What's even worse, he ended up cutting far too deep, and the bleeding refused to stop. In order to stop the bleeding, he'd had to cauterize is SIX times. 

Six times he burned the veins and nerves in your foot to stop the bleeding.

Six times he caused more and more damage.

Six times is what threw your life to the wolves.

When the bleeding stopped and you were home once more, you'd had to wear burned bandages for a full month before it was completely healed...at least on the outside.

About a month and a half later, you woke up in the middle of the night, screaming in pain. Your parents ran into your room and flicked on the light, your foot was bright red, swollen, and sweating. Your parents had feared that the scarlet fever had returned, which was terrifying because the second time people caught it, often resulted in death.

You were rushed to the hospital, and to this day you could remember every pot hole, every jerk of your foot, and every scream of pain that erupted involuntarily from your throat, the tears refusing to stop streaming down your face.

You stayed in the hospital for a week, before being transferred to the women's and children's hospital, specialists there to help diagnose what was going on, as you weren't physically ill, your foot wasn't broken, and there was no sign of infection...it was just reacting in a way that utterly perplexed everyone, doctors, parents, and nurses.

You were terrified, the pain in your foot continuously changing. It would be dark purple and sweating, feeling ice cold to the touch and like it was being crushed from the inside out, and within minutes change to bright red and burning hot, feeling as though knives were being thrust in every time there was a slight shift of air in the room. The weirdest part would be your foot growing patches of hair, and your toenails growing thicker than normal. Being just a kid at that point in time, you couldn't explain how it felt, you didn't have the vocabulary or the strength to conjure up the right words to tell the doctor what you were feeling.

Eventually, after a week in that hospital, one of the elderly nurses who worked there for 38 years, recognized what was wrong, as she'd seen a case like this with a man's hand.

CRPS...Complex Regional Pain Syndrome.

Basically, it's a lifetime condition. Nobody really understand how it works, nobody really knows why it happens. You could end up with it from a paper cut or a broken leg, it just happens.

Due to you having two major traumas to the same area, you ended up with permanent nerve damage, thus triggering the CRPS.

Loaded up on specific medications, introduced to physiotherapy, investing in a nice new set of crutches, and you were sent back home to just tough it out. At the time, you were the youngest outpatient to have this disorder, and it was a rare disorder to begin with!

Your Family doctor claimed you were faking and it was all in your head...sure, you can fake your foot swelling up like a balloon and turning purple. Okay Doctor Asshole, whatever helps you sleep at night.

Eventually, after a year and 2 months of constant pain, you finally snapped out of it, you were free of the pain and worked to rebuild the strength you'd lost in your entire left leg due to not being able to walk on it. 

9 Glorious months of being pain free were sadly interrupted by a flare, it came back and you were back in that cycle of physio, medication trials, everything.

This pattern has continued your entire life, including right now. It effected your schooling, and you barely graduated, seeing as majority of the time you weren't physically able to attend classes. Although you did graduate, you were a year late.

Even though you had such a wonderful support team, you could never shake the feeling of being an outcast. No matter what your family told you, no matter what your best friends insisted, you felt useless.

It was a given that depression would occur, even excluding it from being a side effect of certain medications, the effect constant pain had on you, the guilt of feeling like a burden, the stress of what the future held for someone like you...well, being in pain was an easy excuse for the tears.

You'd found treatments that worked for you temporarily, Lidocaine infusions, Lumbar Blocks, nerve blocking medications, but nothing was permanent. 

You took full advantage of being pain free when you had those breaks from the pain, doing everything you were physically able to do, including bungee jumping. If you weren't physically incapable majority of your life, you'd be such a free spirit. You wouldn't be stuck living on disability, you'd be out exploring the world, discovering new places, and yourself.

You sighed, sitting on the edge of the bathtub in your small apartment, cradling your foot in your lap as the hot water ran, the splashing into the tub blocking out any other sound. You were staring blankly down at the cursed, throbbing, purple literal fucking pain in the ass, not even sure what thoughts were running through your head today.

This was a normal routine, every day you'd become stressed with the amount of problems in your life, and decide to try and ease your frustrations by having a hot bubble bath. It caused your bill to skyrocket due to the hot water you used, but seeing as you didn't have an expensive phone bill, nor any real big expenses, it was surprisingly easy to afford. 

You continued to stare blankly at your foot, wincing as a wave of fiery stabbing sensations washed over the limb. You bit down on your tongue hard as you tried to hold back a sob, shaking your head as you quickly shook your head, forcing the tears to stay where they were.

You'd gotten pretty good at that. Controlling your emotional reactions. 12 years of pain did that to a person.

The bath was nearing full so you reached over to shut the water off, careful not to bump your foot or jerk it around too much. You took a shaky breath, turning to dip your "good" foot, into the water. It was pretty hot, but you didn't care. You had a bath pillow where your feet went, and rested your left foot on it so the water wouldn't touch, biting your tongue as you leaned back, letting your body slowly adjust to the temperature of the water.

You squeezed your eyes shut, those thoughts creeping back into your mind, clearer now that the noise of the water splashing into the tub was no longer present. A traitorous tear fell, sliding slowly down your cheek.

Then you broke.

You covered your mouth, shaking your head as the tears cascaded down your cheeks like a salty waterfall, holding back the loud sob building inside you, your chest tightening as you held your breath, not wanting the sniffles to echo through the bathroom.

Your foot was ice cold, you risked a glance at it. Even after all these years of watching it change like a 11th grade science project, you still were mortified at the disgusting colours and things it would change to. The bright red that met your gaze caused a sob to escape, and you let out a small "fuck" while hiccuping, thanking whatever holy being that your roommate and best friend wasn't home at that moment.

In your teary sobbing fit, your eyes switched from focusing on your foot, to the edge of the tub where your leg razor lay in it's place. You stared at it for a solid minute, a raging battle going on inside your head. 

Do it, no don't do it. DO IT, no you can't...

A firm knock on the door snapped you from your thoughts, and you choked back another sob, hearing the voice on the other side.

"Y/n? You all good in there?" Came the familiar voice of Steve, your roommate and best friend for a few years now. You drew in a shaky breath, trying to be as steady as you could while replying.

"Yep...All good." You managed to say, mentally cursing as your voice gave out halfway through the word 'good'.

"Are you sure?" He asked, his voice laced with concern. You bit down on your hand, holding back the sob building inside you.

"Yeah Steve I'm okay...just...foot's bad today." You replied quietly, hoping that even after knowing you for so long he didn't recognize when you were lying, or hiding something.

"Do you need to uh...do you want to talk?"

You let out a small laugh, wincing as you tried to adjust your foot.

"Steve you know I don't like dumping my shit on you." You replied, your voice a tad steadier than it had been. Despite the years of therapy, you still had a very difficult time of opening up about how much pain you were really in, emotionally and physically. You hated complaining, hated being the burden, so you made the unhealthy decision when you were 14 to just tough it out and suck it up, hardly ever letting someone see you vulnerable.

Steve had been there for a lot, he'd been there for two breaks, one three years ago when you were 19 and applying to be a secretary at Stark tower, and one that ended just a few weeks ago. Each break had lasted a solid 8 months, time you made the most of.

The latest flare hit you hard. You woke up at 4 in the morning three weeks ago, Your entire body beaded with sweat. You had subconsciously kicked your foot out from under the blanket before waking up from the pain, and when you flicked on the light beside you and risked looking down, you couldn't help the loud sob that came from your throat. 

You'd been doing so well, been thriving at your job, Tony even hinted about promoting you to being assistant for the avengers team instead of just a secretary to Stark Tower, and you knew that the promotion wasn't just any promotion, it was special, and you were proud you'd earned it for once. 

You pulled your foot to your chest that night, sobbing as you rocked back and forth, biting your tongue every time a tear landed on your foot. You were thankful Steve was out on a mission, because you hated when he had to see you like this. You hated looking weak in front of people you cared about, and you hated the pity you got when people saw you in pain, even though they meant it in a supportive way, you didn't like that attention.

Of course that night Steve came home, hearing your sobs before he unlocked the front door. He'd rushed in to make sure everything was alright, but you most definitely were not. You'd begged him to leave, to just ignore you and you'd adjust to the pain in a little while, that you were fine. However, as insistent as you were, Steve was as stubborn as an ox. He was the size of an ox, but he was still as stubborn as one. He carefully sat with you, rubbing your back gently as you cried.

That was the only night you let him see you like that. True you had appreciated his kindness, the support he gave you and how amazingly caring he was, but you hated feeling so broken. He didn't deserve that constant thought of "I hope y/n's okay today" while he was supposed to be elbow deep in training for an important mission.

Tony knew what was going on with you as well, and was always understanding about it. He didn't know how to comfort you, but he knew how to give you the time you needed until the flare ended. Arranging pay, basically like a maternity leave only you were pregnant with pain, not a screaming little bundle of joy. 

Steve though, all he knew how to do was comfort you. He hated being able to take out a hundred bad-guys, but he couldn't stop your pain.

"Y/n, your problems are my problems, just talk to me" Steve said quietly, and you knew he heard the frustrated sigh that echoed from your mouth. Inner Turmoil. Tell him, don't tell him, tell him...no don't tell him.

"Steve I can't...I-I'm....I'm okay I swear. I just didn't get much sleep last night and and the new medications aren't working yet and I..." You trailed off, shaking your head as the tears streamed down your face again. "I'll be out in a few minutes..." You whispered, hoping he heard. 

"Alright, be careful Y/n, I don't want to break down the door again." He said, teasing slightly. You appreciated him trying to lift your spirits a bit. You slowly climbed out of the tub, gasping as you hopped over to the counter, sitting on the toilet to pull on your clothes once you'd dried off. You reached for your crutches, careful to put them on the bath rug so you wouldn't slip. You opened the bathroom door, Steve leaning just outside of it. 

You had a good poker face for about 12 seconds until you saw the concern in his gaze, and your wall crumbled, the waterfall's barrier completely breaking down. He pulled you into a tight hug, minding the placement of your foot. You buried your face in his shirt, gasping for breath as you tried to get a grasp on your emotions. 

"I'm sorry Steve" You whimpered, realizing you'd gotten his shirt all wet.

He blinked, confused as to why you were apologizing, then saw his shirt and laughed.

"It's a shirt Y/n, they get wet. Come on I'll make you some tea okay? Help you calm down a little." He said gently, brushing some hair out of your face, which by reflex made you blush. You nodded rapidly pulling away and heading for the kitchen. 

Something you were damn proud of, was the fact you were fast as hell on crutches. Speedy fucking Gonzales.

You sat down at the table, putting your foot on the chair across from you wile Steve filled up the kettle and put it on, sitting beside you while he waited.

"I know you're hurting Y/n, but I have a surprise" Steve said with a smile, and you frowned, knitting your eyebrows together in confusion.

"Steve I swear to god if you got me another damn electronic thing I'll beat you with my crutch...again." You warned, and he held up both hands in a surrender motion, shaking his head.

"I know you've been down, Y/n, and you know the walls are thin enough for me to hear.."

You sighed. "Me crying my eyes out every night..." To which he nodded.

"I talked to Tony and Bruce, and they agreed since this new medication your doctor found isn't doing the trick, they want to try and make a new one...just for you..." Steve said, waiting for your reaction.

10.  
9.  
8.  
7.  
6.  
5.  
4.  
3.  
2.  
1.

Ten seconds and the tears were rushing down your face again, quickly shaking your head.

"Steve..I....I know they're geniuses but I don't know if they can even..." You began, but Steve held up both hands again.

"Just give it some thought Y/n, we all hate seeing you in pain, even Pietro, and you know how much you and him butt heads." To which you let out a laugh, shaking your head again.

"We don't butt heads, he's just an ass." You defended, starting to cheer up a bit with the hope that maybe they could figure out a new form of relief. Your foot was throbbing from under the table, and although the tears were still there, you were managing to focus on Steve, ignoring your pain the best you knew how.

"You two are practically the same, except he can run." Steve said, raising an eybrow, and you huffed.

"Okay, listen, it's not my fault I look like wet spaghetti when I run, but you and I both know I beat him in every arm wrestling contest we've ever had." You replied, your naturally sarcastic attitude shining through again, one of the traits everyone loved about you. You were funny, at least other people seemed to think that for whatever reason.

Steve stood to make you the tea, setting it down on the table, and, despite it being super hot, you took a sip, ultimately burning your tongue.

It was a bad habit, you always tried to find another relief from the pain by focusing on different pain. You knit your eyebrows together, setting down the mug of hot tea and staring at it blankly. You thought back to before Steve knocked on the bathroom door, to when you were staring at that razor, thinking about how you'd be less of a burden on everyone...

"Y/n, hey, you in there?" Steve said, his hand on your shoulder.

"Steve...b-before you knocked I was...really bad." You mumbled, and Steve frowned, looking confused. 

"Foot bad or head bad?" He asked, and you looked up at him, knowing how broken you probably looked. 

"Both..." You whispered, looking down. The last time you admitted to someone what you were thinking was when you were 13, and that was when you showed your mom the cuts. 

Steve enveloped you in a tight embrace, resting his chin on the top of your head.

"It's gonna be okay, Y/n... I promise, just hang in there." Steve murmured, and you barely recognized the motion of him kissing your forehead, too absorbed in the guilt of putting him through all of this, too absorbed in how your foot was doing that thing of the top half being ice cold and the bottom half burning hot, too absorbed in just being done.

"Just keep being strong okay? We're going to fix this, and you're not going to do it alone so don't even think about running away."

"Very funny. I may be blinded by tears but i can still stab you with my crutch." You muttered, and he chuckled, still rubbing your back.

"You could try." He replied teasingly, and you huffed, closing your eyes as you focused on the hug, inhaling the smell of his tear stained t-shirt, begging your mind to ignore the pain and focus on the good things of that moment.

"Thank you Steve...I don't know where I'd be without you." You breathed, and he smiled sadly, not saying anything as he watched you battle your invisible monsters, silently hoping you'd be pain free very soon.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is based on what I've been dealing with since I was ten (so 8 years). The events that caused this disorder are mentioned in the story, as are a lot of what I've felt.  
> The stark tower looking for work is obviously fake, as is the roommate situation seeing as I still live at home having only just turned 18 and not graduated yet. (thus the mention of graduating a year late)
> 
> Some of this may be different from other cases, because this disorder is so messed up. It varies from person to person, and in some cases can even switch places (meaning if you have it in your foot, it could switch to both of your legs. It's really weird. Great science experiment though.)
> 
> I AM currently experiencing a flare-up, which is why I've been so inactive lately, I can hardly focus on schoolwork, let alone free time writing, and it sucks. So if you notice any typos or something could be fixed, please let me know, I probably missed it while being distracted. 
> 
> I hope this series is enjoyable and not too weird for you guys, I figured it might be a fun little thing to do when bored, needing a distraction, or have writer's block.
> 
> Thank you so much for your support, and I love you all!


	2. They're not boobs till you're 18

You were so god damn excited.

It was a Wednesday, normal for most people, but seeing as you were a runaway with two monster hunters as of last week, it was the most exciting hump-day in a long long time.

"Y/n, we're almost at the range, you remember what we went over before?" Came the now week-old familiar voice of Sam from the front seat, snapping you from your internal excitement.

"Yeah Sam I know, you showed me all the fucking diagrams on how the gun works, I got it." You insisted, praying he wouldn't make the rash decision to give you a little pop-quiz on how the gun you'd picked out worked from the inside out, because you were so much better on your feet rather than with actual verbal memory and quizzes. 

"Cut the kid some slack, Sammy. She'll figure it out as we go along." Dean spoke up, coming to your rescue. You breathed out a small sigh of relief.

You were only 16, but after watching your house burn with your possessed family inside, you had nobody left to turn to. You'd be taken in for questioning, or accused of murdering your family. So, seeing as they were the ones who'd burned it during an attempted "group" exorcism, Sam and Dean Winchester had offered to let you join them on their nationwide hunts, basically taking pity on you.

You hated the pity, but they were all you could really accept now, you had nothing left anymore.

"Shut up old man, I'm not a kid." You muttered without realizing, and Dean slammed on the break, causing you to yelp and crash into the back of Sam's seat.

"Watch it sweetheart, I'm not some grandpa." He warned, and you cheekily grinned, rolling your eyes.

"Because any chick who slept with you would be too young to have grandkids at this point, let alone children." You retorted, and Sam nearly choked. 

Dean held your gaze in the rear-view mirror for a good 4 seconds before his dead-faced expression broke into a grin. He shook is head, turning down the gravel road to the local gun range.

You were bubbling with excitement to say the least, you'd always wanted to learn how to use a gun. The most you'd ever gotten was how to disarm a knife attack courtesy of your dad, seeing as he was a bit paranoid when the knife threats became more insistent at your school. 

But a gun, you were determined to prove you could do this right.

Once Dean parked, you scrambled out of the back seat, rushing to the trunk and practically jumping as you waited for the brothers to open the damn thing already.

"You're like a kid on Christmas, holy shit Y/n, calm your tits." Dean mumbled as he finally popped the trunk. You crossed your arms, forcing yourself to stand still as you waited for them to bring out the gun bag. Sam ruffled your hair, affectionately reassuring you that it was just Dean's way of teasing you.

Dean lugged the gun bag over his shoulder, locking up Baby and heading down the path. You skipped ahead, slowing down to let them catch up before skipping ahead again, 

"I bet I'll get a bullseye." You chattered away, not really caring if the two had tuned you out at this point, you were just so excited to fire an actual gun.

"Alright Y/n, come help me set up the targets, Sammy's gonna organize the ammo cuz he's good at being tidy." Dean announced, and you quickly scampered after the older Winchester like an attached puppy, praying you wouldn't embarrass yourself 

"You sure you wanna do this kid? Cuz I don't want you feelin' like you have to do this just to keep up with us." Dean said, putting a firm hand on your shoulder. You frowned, knitting your eyebrows together in confusion.

"Do...do you not want me to learn?" You asked worriedly, suddenly feeling like a burden as you realized they were teaching you something that was second nature to them.

"No, I just don't want to pressure you into something you don't think you're ready for..." Dean said quickly, and you patted him on the face reassuringly.

"Don't worry, I'm ready to help kick ass Dean." You promised, before running back to Sam, leaving Dean to set up the last target. He simply shook his head while his finished, then went to go and join you and Sam. You were helping him organize the ammo he'd taken out, and Dean cleared his throat as he stopped in front of the table everything was set up on.

"Alright kiddo, last drill - Green flag up, what does that mean?" Dean asked, gesturing to where the currently red flag was sticking up.

"Means the range is live, don't get in the way or in front of the target for any reason until the flag is red." You spouted quickly, grinning from ear to ear.

"Red flag?" Dean asked.

"Safe to change your targets." You replied, hoping he'd speed up a little.

"And what don't you do while firing?" Dean asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Get distracted for any reason, shoot anybody, break your gun, or laugh at any of Sam's jokes." You finished, and Dean smirked, nodding.

"Hey!" Sam said, looking mildly hurt, giving you his puppy-dog look. You rallied with a pout of your own, before sticking your tongue out at him playfully.

"Alright kid, grab your gun, check the safety's on and follow me, we're gonna start you off closer to the target so you have something to grow on, okay?"

You quickly did as instructed, trotting after Dean with your gun in hand and pointed firmly at the ground, just in case.

"Okay. Stand with your feet apart, arms out straight, and bring your shoulders up so you're kind of hunched. Don't stand up straight, the recoil when you fire will might knock the gun into your teeth, so being hunched will give you a bit more sturdiness to prevent that." Dean explained, and you nodded, standing how he'd shown you.

"Alright, now aim for the center of the target, flick off the safety, and squeeze the trigger." Dean said, then put the ear-muffs on. You let him put yours on as well, and he gave you a thumbs up.

3  
2  
1

BANG

You fired, and within a split second, the shell from the gun popped out of the chamber, flying backwards, and directly down your shirt.

Nearly dropping the gun, the hot metal seared into your boob, and Dean quickly took the gun, flicking on the safety and putting it in the holster on your waist.

"Don't ever drop a live firearm, Y/n!" Dean said gruffly, and you winced, shaking your head quickly.

"I'm sorry! It just burned my fucking boob off Dean!" You defended, sticking your hand down your shirt to fish out the metal bullet shell from your bra. Once in your palm, you threw it at Dean and stomped off back to where Sam was currently hunched over, laughing his ass off.

"You can shut up. I'm waiting in the car." You spat, stalking down the path that led to the parking lot. You'd snatched up the keys to baby from the table, and once arrived at Baby's side you slid in the back seat and pulled your shirt off, looking down at your boob that was nicely supported by your favourite bra.

You know that thing you can't help but do when you find a bruise, and decide to poke it to see if it hurts? Well that's exactly what you did with this. 

"Shit.." You mumbled after poking the bullet shaped burn mark, wincing as soon as your finger connected.

There was a tap on the glass, and you whipped your head around, seeing Dean standing there with his hands in his pockets.

"Can you put your shirt back on, we're not done with teaching you how to shoot." Dean said, clearing his throat as he looked everywhere but at you.

"Dean I fucked that up, I'll just keep being your research nerd." You whined, not so much bratty from the pain, just the embarrassment of knowing you'd one day have to explain to a future lover as to where the scar on your tit came from.

Despite the whining, you obliged and pulled your t-shirt back over your head.

"You didn't fuck up, the first time I shot I nearly took my dad's head off, got beat silly." Dean said, hoping to reassure you.

"Dean my boob got BURNED, it's gonna scar! Do you know how awkward that's going to be?" You whined again, pouting as tears welled up in your eyes.

"What boob? They ain't boobs till you're 18, sorry kid." He teased, and you couldn't help but laugh.

"Shutup." You mumbled.

"Come on, we'll try again. This time you can wear my jacket and zip it up so nothing can fly down your shirt." Dean offered, and you raised an eyebrow, looking skeptical.

"I'll only comply if you promise we can get smoothies after." You said, trying to bargain.

"Sammy's gotten you hooked on that shit hasn't he? If we're gonna get something blended it'll be a goddamn milkshake." Dean said, but you pinned him with a look that said "agree or I'm staying in the car", to which he caved, sighing in an overly dramatic fashion.

"Alright, but you can only get a large if you nail the target three times. Otherwise it's medium." He said, trying to at least get his way for something, and you felt a little bad, thus agreeing.

"Alright, let's not burn my other boob then, shall we?" You said, standing and stretching your arms, looking a little nervous.

"Still not boobs sweetheart, they're mosquito bites. Let's go." He countered, and you huffed, rolling your eyes as you stomped back to join Sam, secretly hopeful you'd at least get one target on the center.

Only one way to find out, and that was to try.

And to not burn your boob and almost drop the gun again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So long story short, guess who has a scar on her boob from a bullet casing?


	3. Bath Salts.

All you'd set out to do tonight, was take your dog for a nice, long walk, in the cold evening with your longtime best friend, Tony Stark.

Now, granted, you'd only just made the move three weeks ago, from a high end neighborhood in New York, to the middle of the city into the Avengers tower, thus winding up in downtown New York where Tony's building was located.

Unfortunately for you, you weren't quite used to being in such a different area of the city, seeing as you were used to the rich kid neighborhood for your entire life.So that meant you needed some time to adjust to the change of environment.

So, tonight, you'd begged Tony to come with you on your walk, still not 100% comfortable with walking alone at night, as you had yet to receive any training in self defense, nor knew the area well enough.

True, you had your dog, but she wasn't exactly known for having the best instincts, seeing as she tried to make friends with every person, animal, and inanimate object she came across on her many adventures during your usual walks.

Tony reluctantly agreed to accompany you on your walk, seeing as you wouldn't shut up until he did. He'd kept questioning you as to why you couldn't just get Bruce to go with you, or Steve or even just walk your damn dog on the treadmill in your quarters, but you'd simply given him your classic puppy dog look, and since he couldn't say no to you, he'd caved.

As always, Tony was the one holding your dog's leash, seeing as he secretly loved her. Magenta was the only dog he'd allowed in the tower permanently, aside from Thor of course. Although, he did tend to tease you over the fact she was named after the pink dog on Blue's Clues.

You were rounding back through Central park, talking to Tony about how different it was adjusting to living in the middle of the city as opposed to in the upper part where you could walk around at 3 am and not worry about being mugged.

While getting to the point of working yourself up, seeing as you were getting so into talking about all the differences you were facing living in this area, you'd noticed someone standing out of your peripheral vision, about a hundred yards away. You immediately were nervous, seeing as nobody but you and Tony were out here at this point in time.

You swore, you heard him say "Pretty girly gonna getcha", which got you even more nervous.

Suddenly, the figure started SPRINTING in your guys direction. You, being in your current nervous worked up state, panicked and made a run for it.

"Tony run he's coming!" You screamed, absolute adrenaline pumping through you. You risked a glance back, screaming bloody fucking murder when the figure was still sprinting at full speed down the cement path. You couldn't comprehend why the fuck Tony was still standing there...laughing?

"TONY RUN HE'S GOING TO KILL YOU!" You shrieked, until you heard Tony's loud laughter. mixed with him calling for you to stop. 

Despite your fight or flight instinct in full flight mode, and your brain protesting, you slowed to a jog, stopping and turning.

The figure that had been sprinting, was just a teenage boy on a skateboard. He gave you a confused look as he passed Tony, who was doubled over nearly crying from laughing so hard. There were tears in your eyes threatening to fall, just because of how much you genuinely thought you were in some sort of danger, and he was still fucking laughing.

Your heart was still racing so fast you felt like you were going to throw up, and when you looked at your dog, you managed to laugh. She was simply sitting, head cocked in confusion.

Her instincts weren't great but if there HAD been such a danger, you doubted she'd just be sitting there.

When you were standing in front of Tony, you were laughing hard. True, your heart was still racing, and you felt sick from the rush you'd experienced having truly believed you were going to die, but even you could see the humour in the fact that you'd thought a KID was going to kill you guys, and that his skateboard was some weapon of mass destruction.

You were jumpy the rest of the walk home, but Tony kept the mood light, teasing you and then assuring you he could easily take on a kid with a skateboard. You'd playfully shove him everytime, but the whole ordeal, and all the possibilities of what COULD have happened refused to leave your mind in peace.

When you got back to the tower, Tony was back laughing, excited to tell everyone exactly what happened. You took Magenta's leash, following Tony to the main lounge, where surprisingly everyone was present, having a nice relaxing evening together.

"Guys, Y/n is chicken shit." Tony announced, and you groaned, knowing the blush was already present on your cheeks. Magenta was already flopped on her back by Thor's feet, leash still attached. 

"What happened?" Bruce asked, noticing the embarrassment on your face and how fidgety you were.

"Okay, so we were rounding back through the park, and there was this kid on the phone with someone, and he said "alright tell my girl i'll getcha" And then started skateboarding toward us to go home, and y/n here fuckin' SCREAMS and starts running faster than anyone I've ever seen, like she almost had Pietro beat." He paused for effect, satisfied he had everyone's attention.

"Anyways! This kid's almost past me, because I'm just standing there with her dog, and Y/n is STILL running through the wet grass, screaming that this kid's gonna kill me. I called her and she finally stopped and saw how stupid funny the whole thing was cuz her damn dog was just sitting there watching her like she was the idiot for once and not Magenta." He grinned, and you threw your hands up in exasperation.

"He was moving so fucking fast Tony! I swear I thought he was on bath salts or something!" You defended angrily, causing everyone to burst into laughter. You huffed, crossing your arms over your chest. "I mean, it's a possibility!" You added, quieter as you'd lost your nerve.

"Guys you're all laughing and that was genuinely the scariest thing that's ever happened to me!" You yelled again, and Clint fell off the couch, nearly pissing himself from laughing so hard.

"Oh god forbid a teenage boy with a skateboard have gotten near you y/n, it's so great you ran and saved yourself from that mid-pubescent acne ridden guy!" Tony teased, and you sighed, looking defeated.

"You're not funny. If he'd been a bath salt crazed murderer like I thought he was you wouldn't be laughing!" You snapped, and Natasha snorted, shaking her head.

"Y/n, Tony has better reflexes drunk than you do sober, he would've handled it. Besides, it's kind of funny. That poor boy must have been so confused." She smirked, and your shoulders slumped as you looked down.

"Oh trust me he gave her such a confused look, it was priceless. He's going to be telling his friends about this crazy paranoid chick in the park longer than we're gonna be teasing you about it." Tony piped up again, and everyone started laughing.

You finally cracked, joining in on the laughter. Now that you weren't scared anymore, you truly did see the humour in this whole thing, as it was ridiculous of how scared you were.

Steve had noticed how rattled you still seemed to be, so he stood, giving you a quick hug.

"Don't worry Y/n, if some guy on bathsalts tried to eat you, Tony would've kicked his ass. Doll I swear he loves you more than any of us."

"Shut up Bucky! I just like her dog." Tony defended, and you snorted, punching him affectionately on the shoulder. 

"Calm down iron dick. We friendzoned eachother so hard you're in the gayzone. I know you love me." You said, and he looked offended.

"Gayzone?" He asked, and you nodded.

"We're such good friends I'd get naked in front of you and wouldn't worry about you looking. The gayzone Tony." You teased, and everyone laughed, while Tony turned beat red.

"Well...you know what I'm getting you a god damn skateboard for Christmas!" Tony yelled, before storming out, while you fell onto the ground, howling with laughter.

One thing was for sure, you were walking Magenta on a treadmill tomorrow night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So basically this story is actually based off my sister's experience, but I was Tony in this situation, laughing my ass off because she thought a boy was on bathsalts and after her.
> 
> Good times.


	4. Trust your gut.

You'd always been a pretty easygoing girl, considering you were only 17 and had dealt with a lot of problems in the past, you were able to joke around and have a good time with basically anyone, including Brock, the man you and your 13 year old sister had started babysitting for that summer.

Brock was an agent, a coworker of your mothers, and when he had mentioned his wife and him were looking for two babysitters to watch their four kids on a regular basis, she'd quickly volunteered you and your sister.

He was a nice guy, and he payed EXTREMELY well. After all, his father had left him with a quarter of a million dollars before his passing, so he had quite a lot of cash to spare.

For the first two months, things were great. You and your sister were practically family to Brock's kids, and they adored you. His wife loved you guys and always thanked you whenever she got the chance, she was such a sweet woman and you loved making things easier for her, seeing as she was busy going to school for a career in nursing.

After the first two months, things started getting...strange.

Brock had always been a rather playful guy, he'd try and poke you, joke around, just friendly stuff. You honestly were always a little put off by the fact that he WAS so touchy feely, but you didn't think much of it, seeing as you had no reason to believe he meant anything by it other than a joke.

So, two months in to this babysitting gig, you were spending the night after a fun day at the water park with everyone. The parents had been there, but seeing as it was four kids, it was pretty hard for simply two people to handle, so you and your sister had gone with them to help out. You were busy helping clean up the kitchen, seeing as the kids were now asleep. The mom, Karen, had gone to bed because she'd gotten a headache, leaving you, your sister, and Brock to just kind of hangout and clean things up. 

It'd gotten to the point of working for him where he'd try to hangout with you more when you babysat, and honestly you were feeling pretty weird about it. You were there to watch his kids, but he'd started just sending them to be with their mom so he could spend time with you guys. Just Dance, Xbox games, offering to take you guys shopping, it was getting a little too close for comfort.

Brock announced he was going to go have a bath while your sister and you cleaned up, you simply nodded, indicating that you'd heard him, and resumed cleaning up the kitchen. Once the dishes were done, you and your sister relaxed on the couch you'd claimed long ago, 

All of a sudden, you got a notification on your phone. You looked down and frowned, seeing it was a snapchat from Brock. The hairs on the back of your neck rose, and you lashed back to the conversation you'd had with him earlier that day.

You'd been riding in the car with him and his 8 year old son, who was passed out in the back seat, and he struck up a conversation.

"So, I was trying to convince Karen to let me buy you a 2000$ computer because of how good you girls have been to us, but she said no so I came up with a way for you to earn that cash.

Immediately, you were wary, but you had your poker face on. You raised an eyebrow.

"What's the idea, Brock?" You asked, and he shook his head, beginning the mumble to himself.

"Maybe she's not ready...maybe in a month."

Your stomach had dropped, because you knew he knew you turned 18 in a month. 

"Ready for what, Brock?" You asked again, and he shrugged.

"Well, I don't know how brave you are." He began, and you shrugged in response, mimicking him.

"I'm pretty brave, Brock, you know that from the stories my mom tells you at work." You said, and he shook his head. You were about to ask again, but he simply stopped the car, as you'd arrived at the water park.

Back the the present, you stared down at the message he'd typed over snapchat.

"So, you think you're up for earning that extra cash? It's something on my bucket list." He said, and you frowned, glancing at your half asleep sister before replying.

"You still haven't told me what this bucket list thing is, Brock." You answered, waiting for his reply.

"Well, first tell me ten things you'd do, ten things you wouldn't, and ten things you'd do with me." He said, and you began to get shakey, your stomach in your throat.

"Brock, I don't feel like making lists I'm really tired." You said, back, hoping to end the convo.

"Okay, what's something you'd do then." He said, and you sighed, figuring just giving him an answer would shut him up.

"I dunno, skydiving or bungee jumping probably." 

"Alright, whats something you wouldn't do?" He pressed on.

"Eat bugs or kill an animal or something like that." You answered, hoping to keep things innocent, even though your brain was going places at this point, anxiety building inside you.

"Alright, now what would you do with me, ALONE." He said, and you dropped your phone. You pressed on the message saving the "what would you do with me alone" message, and shook your sister awake.

"Lin, look at this..." You said, the panic rising in your voice. She sleepily shrugged it off.

"I don't think he'd mean it like that Y/n, you're just tired." She said, and rolled over, going back to sleep. You winced, wondering if you were just looking for an excuse to freak yourself out, but your gut feeling was overwhelming any shred of a reasonable thought.

You checked the messages, seeing he replied.

"Y/n, why did you save just that message, doesn't make sense? Is it a glitch?"

"Y/n, answer."

"Y/n, did you fall asleep?"

You shuddered.

"No sorry, I'm so tired Idk what I'm doing. Goodnight Brock." You said, wincing as you unsaved the message, as you didn't want to provoke anything or cause suspicion. You curled up on the couch, holding back tears as you contemplated in your head what you should do.

You knew you should trust your gut, but you also didn't want to stir up anything or assume the wrong thing, because there were four kids and a wife in the picture, you didn't want to be the one to ruin their lives.

You tossed and turned all night, and didn't fall asleep at all. You'd made the decision to ask them to drive you guys home early, because you couldn't be around him any longer. You unfortunately had to drive with him, as his car only seated three, so your sister rode with Karen to drop off the other kids at Daycare, while his 8 year old son was passed out in the back seat again. 

You were wearing shorts, as it was a warm morning, something you regretted but your pants were gross from children's booger's and other liquids. You were slightly chilly as he had the AC on, but you kept your mouth shut.

"You've got goosebumps." He commented, reaching over and feeling your leg, causing you to nearly scream, but you just laughed, nodding.

"Yeah, AC is a bit high don't you think?" You asked, and he shrugged, taking his hand off you to adjust the level of the cold air. You breathed a minuscule sigh of relief, leaning back and shutting your eyes.

When you got home, your sister was already there, and she was pretty confused. You offered no explanation, just stormed inside and locked yourself in your room, crying into your pillow as a storm rushed through your head. You were contemplating if you should tell your parents or not, because you still weren't sure if you were imagining his actions or not, he'd been manipulating your emotions so well.

When he'd asked why you were so quiet, he blamed it on PMS, which you realized was possible because you were close to getting your period. That freaked you out tenfold because that meant he knew your cycle. He knew so much about you...and your little sister. That's when you realized you had to tell your mom, you couldn't let your sister around that anymore, you had to protect her. After all, she was the same age as Brock's wife was when he'd first met her...and he'd been 23 when he first dated her, and she was 16 when she was pregnant.

You walked upstairs to the livingroom, and sat down on the couch where your mom was watching TV. She smiled warmly at you, but said nothing, returning to watching her show. Your father was training at the tower, as he had a mission to go to in less that a day. 

You idolized your dad since you were born, Steve Rogers was America's darling, and when you were born it was a shock. Your mom, a long time agent of SHIELD, wasn't even known to have any contact with Steve, but apparently they kept their relationship extremely secretive. Until you were born.

Once you were out of the bag, everything blew up, and after they'd had your sister a few years later, people began seeing you as a normal family, and everyone was happy for Steve especially that he'd gotten the american dream.

"Mom?" You asked, looking down at your lap, trying to figure out how to phrase this properly.

"What's up?" She asked with a smile, and you felt your lower lip start to tremble as you tried to keep your shit together.

"Brock.. was really weird today" You stammered out, the tears beginning to fall. She was immediately on edge, sitting up and pulling you into her lap, hugging you tightly.

"Shh, what happened Y/n?" She asked, and you hiccuped, shaking your head.

"I-I don't know...he he felt up my leg in the c-car and he's been really really touchy f-feely and h-he I...I think he was trying to pay me for sex" You sobbed, burying your head into her shirt.

"Hey hey, it's okay, you're done babysitting then." She promised, and you nodded, still sobbing as things flashed through your head. All the stuff he'd done and said this summer was starting to add up. He'd kicked your butt a few times, he's said some things like "If I were your age there's no way you'd be single" and stuff along those lines.

Your sister walked in after your mom said that, looking confused. You were terrified she'd be mad that you ruined such a good babysitting opportunity, but you knew you had to keep her safe.

The next few hours were a blur, and Steve, your dad, had come home early once your mom phoned him to tell him what was going on. She made him promise not to do anything before she'd even told him, because she knew the only thing that would stop him from going out and murdering that fucker would be the fact that he'd never broken a promise to her before.

Your mom was pretty smart.

Even after he'd promised not to, he nearly rode his motorbike all the way to Brock's place out of pure anger, but turned back because he couldn't break your mom's promise like that.

Fortunately, it was all enough for a restraining order, and though you were nervous during the police statement, it really helped push things along.

A few weeks later you learned Brock had gone off the deep end, started hitting his wife, lost his job at SHIELD, everything. She'd filed for a restraining order and divorce, taking the kids AND the dog.

Even though he hadn't actually done anything like THAT, you were still nervous, any guy that wasn't your dad freaked you out from a distance, and you were extremely fidgety and jumpy all the time. It got so bad that Tony Stark had offered to move you guys into the Avenger's tower, seeing as it would be safe and Brock wouldn't be able to get in if he decided to make the stupid decision to try anything.

After moving in to the tower you began to relax a little. For the most part, your life was as normal as it was before, but every so often you'd have a flashback to what went down, and how close you'd been to permanently being damaged emotionally and physically for life, or at least close to it. Just the thought of what could have happened always reduced you to a borderline panic attack. You'd ended up having to start going to a therapist, just to cope properly. In all honesty you felt kind of pathetic, seeing as you knew many people who'd gone through so much worse and turn out completely fine, whereas nothing had happened and you felt broken. 

Your therapist had simply explained that it was the endless amount of possibilities of what COULD have happened that were haunting you, because nothing physically happened, you were left to wonder what his plan was.

Thankfully, as you got older you began to cope better, and the flashbacks almost stopped altogether.

You were truly just relieved that you'd gotten your sister out of there, something your dad often praised you for.

The lesson you'd learned was an important one - always trust your gut, even if it's a hard decision to make.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, a while ago I went on Hiatus because of some stuff that happened, and I only just recently felt okay enough to actually place that event into my writing. It's not my best chapter but it's kind of an explanation as to why I was gone for that little while.
> 
> Also, I'm not going to be able to update very much, for any of my stories, as I'm going back to school this monday (February 1st) until June-ish. I'll do my best to update at least once every two weeks, but no promises.
> 
> Thank you for your patience guys, I love you all! <3


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